


Legal Issues

by BooksAndTheSmellOfRegret (TheDreamsOfGarbage), TheDreamsOfGarbage



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: I self project myself on to Arlen at all times, Multi, Nothing rlly bad bout this, Town of Salem, We both have scizophrenia and are hella gay and recently realizing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreamsOfGarbage/pseuds/BooksAndTheSmellOfRegret, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreamsOfGarbage/pseuds/TheDreamsOfGarbage
Summary: Love. It's so hard to get used to, even somewhere normal, like everywhere outside of Salem





	1. In Which Arlen is Introduced

Arlen woke up from an almost twelve hour sleep. 

The first morning after getting sucked in to Salem was unobjectionably the best to every victim. They got to sleep in for far longer than usual being that they didn't have act at night and only had to talk to everyone else when they woke up, no accusations needed. 

He groggily got up from the only bed in his home, the crusty, thin mattress on a metal plate in the town's cell.

"Hello Salem," he whispered to his pillow.

'Hello, Arlen,' said Something, just to him. 'Are you ready to kill the few people you know? Or maybe die at the hands of one of them?'

This was normal. Happens a few times a day. 

'Maybe jail someone and just execute them no matter what? Yeah, that sounds good.'

So. Sounds like he was gonna start off the cycle with an execution or two. No big deal, really.

He got up and got dressed, ignoring the morning bell. On the first day, you could come out whenever you wanted, no worries about whatever the hell the Town Caller wanted.

When he did leave his house, he only had a short time to chat with the other townies for the first time.

It looked like a typical town. Mostly regulars, a Dexter, a Sheriff, and a Firebug. He himself was a Warden, appropriately.

Everyone else was already chattering loud enough to blend most of the conversation into a comforting roar. The Dexter and the Firebug were looking awful close while the others gathered together to have a group conversation. 

Someone called McDonald instantly revealed themselves as Mayor.

"Ok, guys, that means that you all have to listen to me," he shrieked. Clearly, this was his first time getting this job. 

Town Caller scoffed and rolled their eyes at this supercilious weirdo. There was at least one fool like this every reset, but usually it wasn't a townie, most commonly a neutral.

Arlen huffed and sat alone for most of the meeting. He was scared of speaking, in case he'd say something wrong. That was easy if you were like him and even easier when you were in Salem. You slip up and say a word with the wrong connotation and all of a sudden you've got a blade in your throat.

In some cases if you even said something in the inaproppriate order then they'd freak out.

That happened to him a few towns before. 

At the time he was a doc, trying to explain to the town that 'No, I'm not the Serial Killer, I'm a doctor and I'm trying to help," simple as that, all I have to say, nothing difficult and no big words to fumble over and become unable to talk through my own babbling and the voices in my ears trying to convince myself of terrible things that are all correct.

Well, all that happened exactly, and he felt incredibly guilty about it. Instead of saying his simple phrase, he mumbled "I'm not the Serial Killer..." before speaking up in slurred words that passed so well with everyone else that he got to be lynched on the spot.

All of a sudden, a hand was placed on his shoulder, scaring the living hell out of him. He tried staying still, ignoring it, hoping that the hallucination would stop.

"'Ey, pal? You all good?" said a new voice from behind.


	2. In Which Jerimiah Decides Who to Investigate Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ARLEN HAS SCIZOPHRENIA JER HAS OCD THE MAYOR HAS AUTISM NO ONE IS NEUROTYPICAL

This is his third damn time in a row being some kind of law enforcement and he was rather sick of it.

'That damn town is the last thing I'd want to work for if I had a choice. Especially not the fucking investigative roles.'

If he had a choice, he'd be neutral killings. The power of being a Serial Killer! The joy of igniting as an arsonist! The sheer emotion and primal strength of a werewolf!

Even being a damn Jester would be better than being a sheriff again.

But, whatever really. When you've been through the town as many times as he had, you got used to having bad jobs.

He threw on a hide vest, pants, and boots (complete with spurs, for if a riot ever broke out and he had to get people to back off), and dropped a 10 gallon hat on his head.

He unconsiously did all this and cringed when he realized that he matched his outfit and role.

He decided in between incarnations that it'd be best if he had spontaneous forms and, lo behold, this purgatory shit on him by handing him the damn cowboy combo.

He tried dragging his feet outside, except his spurs caught on his shag carpeting and he started lifting his feet higher than normal instead. He was the first one in the center in the morning. His status forced him to do things like wake up at ungodly hours and stay up until almost the same time he woke.

If the mayor asked him to become more thorough in his interrogation at night, he'd run in to himself getting up in the morning.

He threw himself on the sidewalk in front of his home and watched the sky change colors.

Another shit day (Week. Month.) in this fucking purgatory that he still can't find a solution to.

Well, this poor little guy's stuck here for a reason.

So's everyone else in Salem.

Listen, sometimes there's a reason sometimes that there's signs all over an area telling you not to go in.

The issue with Salem was a sort of curse around it due to that damn witch. It was a petty reason too.

She wasn't allowed to live in the town back when it was being built for being a witch. Simple as that. Fair too, in my opinion.

So she threw a fit, planted some Morning Glory and Mayflower, and activated them through the very process that the town disowned her for. The flowers and magic entrapped their souls, keeping them in a cycle of chaos and unable to stop or leave.

You couldn't even try and get close externally to dig up the flowers, only someone close to the witch could get past the signs and sawhorses the other towns learned to put up overtime. Plus, if you were a random person trying to meddle with the flowers, you got dragged down to the Salem pit.

The witch herself dove in to watch her wonderful curse go down and, sadly, got her soul wrapped up in it too, unable to give up, forced to keep playing a shitty game about neighborly violence.

It sucked ass. It's been almost 250 years and it's gotten to a point where they get to lay around in a weird state as souls as another team messes around.

Someone exited their home and hooted a yawn. Sheriff looked in their noisy direction at a typical member.

Jerimiah stood up, clipping himself on his spurs. He wondered around boredly through the meeting. Sometimes answering something someone asked or kicking a passing frog.

Town Caller sat themselves in their high seat to watch the town's going-ons.

Everyone else came out over time in various states of wakefulness.

Someone named McDonald revealed themselves as the mayor less than 10 minutes within the official beginning of the meeting.

"Ok, guys, that means you all have to listen to me!"

Sheriff groaned. McDonald was already approaching them. Probably to ask if they're the sheriff, just because of his outfit, like a damn noob.

Well, he'd be right, but it'd be a dick move.

"So," stage-whispered the mayor, "you're the sheriff riiiiiiiight?

"Sheriff nodded. At least five others in town knew his role now.

"Nice!" They were hopping now. "Let's get to work then!"

They were so fucking enthusiastic it was almost cute. 

"I want you to investigate." They stopped to look around. Stopped on everyone with a special skin.

Sheriff scanned over them too. Mostly normies, a Firebug and a Dexter flirting and whispering to each other, and a Warden, sitting alone, covering their ears.

Covering their ears.

All alone.

Sheriff frowned at that. They'd have to be checked soon. Probably just a Jester, but still.

McDonald saw them too.

"Them! That freak over there!"

Sheriff nodded. Mayor could get their ass beat in a second if Jerimiah were to disobey.

"I'll do it tonight little dude. Run off and talk to the others now."

Mayor skipped away to join the crowd. The Sheriff laughed at their joy. It was refreshing to see new souls running around sometimes.

Well, first off in finding the weird Warden's role, they'd go directly to them and ask what they are.

They were turned to the aisle between the houses, gripping their elbows and shaking gently.

Jerimiah placed his hand on the person's shoulder. The shaking stopped, at least.

He shook his hand since he didn't turn around.

"Ey, pal, you all good?"

It seemed like there was only them in the world. It was a terrifying feeling, the worst Jer had ever felt in his time in Salem. And he'd been burned alive before.

Warden whipped around, panting, crying. 

'Why are they so scared?'

"Wh-what," They quietly said in a hushed voice.


	3. "What a fucking weirdo-I like them!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlen already wants Jer to smooch him and they only just met

"I said," replied Jerimiah with a quiver in his voice, "Are you alright?"

Arlen licked his lips. 

Shifty little eyes. Thin, yellow hair. He quite reminded Jer of a hamster he had once.

He nodded, throwing his uncut, greasy hair around.

"Yeah. Ye-ah, yeah," he told Jer. He met eyes with Jeremiah for more than a second for the first time, and Jeremy saw that his eyes were the same faded blue as his own.

Jeremy knew that that excited mayor wouldn't settle for this information. He kept pushing for more information.

"'Ey, mate, the mayor's asked me to whisper to you 'nd get your role."

Arlen looked over Jer's shoulder, and spotted the mayor. He looked up to Jerimiah and nodded in the mayor's direction, heading to him.

'Thank hell I don't have to deal with that dude,' thought Arlen. 'He's pressuring me to talk way too much.'

While he was supposed to be having that conversation with someone, he was zoning out aggressively and only picked up that he was being asked about his state, which was fucking horrible but you can't tell a new neighbor that.

A hand was on his shoulder, again. He turned around to see the asshole that kept trying to socialize or something.

"No, no ,no. You should know the rules, no one can whisper to the mayor anymore."

He took Arlen's other shoulder forcefully. He was scared now.

What would this lead to? What trouble is he in this time?

Jer leaned over Arlen a little now, making sure that he sensed his size. He had more than a foot on him and made Arlen think about some romantic novels he read before. He never imagined himself as the small and shy heroine, however.

"Listen, little dude, I'm a little personally interested in you." Arlen whimpered, but Jerimiah persisted his lean. "I'm curious as to what you're use to the town is."

"I... I'm-" Town Caller hollered that the day was over and everyone had to go home and stay inside or become one of a "late night lynch".

"I'll be seeing you again. Don't think we're done here."

Arlen still stood in his spot, shivering, watching Jerimiah walk away. Jer looked over his shoulder at him before slamming his door for the night. 

Arlen started tiptoeing back inside.

Time for the first night.


End file.
